Does She Know She's Special?
by Amanthya
Summary: Sarah gave up her dreams and won, something no other human had ever managed. The High King offers back the dreams she lost in return for a chance to study her, certain she's more than she seems. But will Jareth allow her to cheat their deal like this? JxS
1. Prologue

**Does She Know She's Special?**

When Sarah conquered the Labyrinth, she did something no human had ever done before, and while the Goblin King is content to forget about the mortal that rejected him, the High King is not. Convinced Sarah is more than she seems, he offers her back the dreams she gave up in order to reclaim her brother if she will only stay with him while he studies her. Protected by him, she is shown the lighter side of the mystical world as he delves deep into her family tree.

But time is not the same in the Fae Court, and as Sarah searches in the King's realm of lost dreams, she slowly loses touch with her own world. Can she find her dreams before she loses herself in the magic? And can the Goblin King's pride accept that she is residing in splendor in the High King's court--a favor won because she defeated him?

.  
.

It was whispered in every ear through the Underground by the next morning. And worse, the news reached the other immortals; the Fae, the Drunnigs, the Keepers of Shadow and Light.

A human had beaten the Labyrinth.

It made the listeners laugh, or gasp, or merely shake their head at what they were sure was a joke. But no, the gossiper would say, it's true. The Goblin King was bested by a mere human youth. The girl overcame the selfish nature that is mankind's inheritance, rendering herself dreamless, to save another.

She made it all the way through the long maze the hard way, passing beyond the city to the castle. Drained, the gossiper said gleefully, drained and on her own, she reached the Escher room and rejected the offer of the Goblin King.

No, the listeners would whisper.

Yes! She refused a place in his court, even though humans are hungry to experience magic. She let him take the dreams that fed her soul hope.

But the other few winners, of other races, the listeners would break in, confused. Didn't they lose their dreams too?

The gossiper came well prepared to answer. Oh, yes, but dreams are so much more powerful to mortals--without them, they do not know what to do. They do not know who they are.

She destroyed herself, the listeners would shake their heads.

.  
.

She had expected to feel elated after she'd won--she'd pushed herself to her limits and proved she was capable of going on through impossible odds, distracting peach-dreams, hunger and fear. She could even be unselfish out of love for another. Well, that motivator was in fact partially made-up of a healthy dose of fear of what would happen if her father and step-mother came home and could not find Toby. How woudld she have explained that?

For a while she'd basked in the glow, dancing to music her parents couldn't hear with beings they couldn't see. But when her friends went back through the mirror and she was left on her own, she slowly became aware of an off sort of feeling. Something wasn't right.

Karen was the same, as was her carefully disengaged father. Toby was...well, a toddler like any other. He was uneffected by his adventure. She kissed him goodnight again when Karen wasn't looking, just to enjoy the fact that he was still there.

But Sarah. She went to bed that night and waited to unwind, calling up in her mind her favorite daydreams to ease the transition into sleep. But the images wavered and slipped away too easily; she could hardly hear the voices of her favorite characters anymore. It just sounded like her own thoughts. She figured it was merely exhaustion. She relaxed finally into the first phase of sleep, letting her thoughts scatter, welcoming the drowsiness and the release from reality it would bring. Every night refueled her to face the unyielding world in the morning.

She snuggled deeply into her comforter, warm in her shift and oversized fuzzy socks. She left the crescent moon nightlight going in the corner of the bedroom, in case she needed to get up to go the bathroom in the night. But she slept through the night without waking once, and when she opened her eyes in the morning she was just as worn out emotionally as the night before. It was as if she'd just closed her eyes minutes ago. And what was worse: her defenses, her protection, her happy fantasies hadn't come.

She sat up in bewildered fear, heart pounding in her chest, because this had never, in all her fifteen years, ever happened before.

Why hadn't she dreamed?

.

_A/N: Hey, all new readers, welcome. Readers who already know me: thank you for checking out my new fic. I will not focus as hard on this as TLAG, I promise, until that's done. But I became aware after posting the newest chapters of that--that it's nearing the end! How sad! Not having a Labby fic to work on would depress me greatly. So I started this one. Keep an eye on it. It'll get better. It's less dark and emotionally intense than TLAG, though, so the future chapters will reflect that._


	2. 1: The High King Decides to Impose

**Chapter One**

.

.

.

Jareth wasn't a subject she wanted to think about--no, scratch that. She wanted to think about him, to figure him out, his mysteries, his lies...his truths? But she had an irrational fear that just thinking about him was going to make him magically appear again in her life. Literally. So she tried to break the habit of a lifetime and stop daydreaming.

Sarah chewed on the end of her pen, the tattered plastic scraping the tip of her tongue one cool November morning in English class. Tall, modelesque Mrs. Norrin was lecturing them on proper paragraph format for their soon-to-be-due essays, and the squeaking of the marker on the whiteboard kept drawing her out of her thoughts.

"I wanna freaking go," Lyssa whispered behind her, talking to her cell phone again in time to its muted beeps. Across the room her boyfriend was hunched over, eyes drawn to his lap, replying.

Sarah blinked and looked around at her once-again ordinary life. 'This is what I wanted,' she reminded herself. It had never seemed so dull before.

SHRRRIIIIING!

The students jumped up happily and left in record time to fully savor every second of the five-minute break time between classes. She rose with them, fingering the strap on her shoulder bag. A flash of light twinkled in her eye, and she looked up, heart suddenly hammering in her chest, but it was only the glint of Mrs. Norrin's ring in the weak sunlight steaming through the window as she lifted her cup of water.

'He has no power over me,' she reminded herself, moving into the crowded narrow hallway with the uncomfortable weight of books on her shoulder. Listening to the conversations going on around her she wondered why she had never before been bothered by her lack of a social life.

'Because I had my fantasies,' she answered herself, then pushed the thought away. It hurt to think that her ability to imagine had been stolen by a vengeful Goblin King--but she didn't even know for sure that that was what had happened. Sure, she had rejected the fulfillment of her fantasies, but not the enjoyment of having them. Or had she? Jareth had been vague in his wording. She paused in the hallway, and was knocked into the wall by a guy half a foot taller than her in a fitted t-shirt and jeans.

"Oh...didn't see you," he tossed over his shoulder without stopping, followed by a group of dreamy-eyed girls. She didn't bother replying, leaning more fully against the wall. No one saw her, because she had never seen them, only the images in her mind, and after several years people had stopped trying to include her.

'This is what I won,' she thought, depressed. 'Why does it feel like I lost'

.

.

.

"So this is the little mortal that bested our dear Jareth," the High King said smilingly as he looked through the fairy's eyes as she worked her magic. Several decades of viewing through another being's eyes via a mind connection gave him considerable skill in directing her, despite her presence in the mortal world, and his in the fae. It helped that Vithana was submissive to him; she liked her place in his court. "She seems to be feeling her lack."

"Yes, Majesty," Vi said agreeably. No one addressed him by name, for to know a fae's true name was to be able to work spells on them. Many created intricate monikers, and those that didn't often had ones made for them, not always to their liking. The Goblin King had many names. Sarah had known him as Jareth, and the King took particular delight in addressing him as so when he came to court. Jareth was stubbornly calm about it on the surface, but the King could sense his distaste. So could the others; no one else dared to mimic him.

"I wonder that such a creature could defeat Jareth," he mused, prodding Vi in her bird-form to hop to a closer tree-branch to eye the girl as she entered one of those metal contraptions humans used to get around in. It weaved around similar vehicles and sped away down the pavement.

"They say he has not been the same ever since," his wife murmured beside him, loosing her golden waves from their up-do now that they were alone in their most private chambers. Queen "Alaitha" had a mind that caught information and analyzed it until it yielded every mystery it held; he trusted her grasp of fae-doings.

"Do they?" he asked, recalling Vi and releasing her from his power. His eyes lost their violet hue and returned to their usual sharp green.

"A storm moves constantly in the atmosphere of the Underground," she spoke of the lowest region of the fae lands, sliding forward on the bed towards him, allowing him a generous view of the cleavage straining against her sapphire-blue bodice. "The once-dry land is drenched with rain and lightning," she purred.

"A pity," he managed. "He will destroy his own kingdom." He reached for her, dragging her closer to him. "They say to love is to refuse sanity." Fae did not often love, but could be as loyal as they desired, and as lustful as mortal adolescents.

"He could be made to submit," Alaitha sat in his lap, gazing at her husband, neatly conquering him. "Capture his mortal obsession and taunt him with her. Then our rebellious Goblin King will not defy you so." She ran her hands through his hair, tilting his head back for a kiss.

He kissed her deeply, and sighed as she drew back, straightening. Jareth was well-known as the "black sheep" of the noble fae, a first son of the King's own brother. He could be governing a realm of higher elements, producing an heir and living in luxury with the aid of magic he was entitled to but not currently in possession of because of his rebellion. In Idon's name, the great ancestor of them all, the fool was ruling a land of goblins. Goblins! The lowest magical creatures! He forfeited his birthrights all to have the freedom to be relatively un-bothered out in the fae equivalent of the "boondocks".

But he was not far enough away that gossip could not reach him and run home to tell the court about his defeat.

"She is unusual." He nuzzled his queen's neck, caressing her with pure magic through her clothing. "I wonder that she had the strength to refuse him. How is such a being, who is enthralled by our magic, able to reject it?"

Alaitha merely smiled knowingly, sensing his falling in with her desires.

"I will take her and find out," he decided.

Alaitha drew back, putting her hands on her hips in a uh-uh pose. "She must want to come, or our realm will quickly ail her," she reminded him. "No, my husband--her dreams remain in our hands, as all lost dreams are, in the Source Cystal." There they were held and converted in times of need to powerful reserves of magic. They were not, as rumored, retained by the Goblin King, because his job was to win the dreams or the children, and he kept only his newly converted subjects, the laborers of the nation. Dream essences vanished into the King's crystal as soon as they were lost by any means, not merely Jareth's trickery.

His queen reached for him again. "You may go where you wish, without summons. Go to her, offer her the chance to reclaim the dreams she lost, and bring her here. And with her," she magicked away his clothing impatiently, something only a highborn fae could do, "you will bring in line your wayward noble."

.

.

.

_A/N: I didn't want to do an information-dump through the dialogue, but I needed to needed to bring to attention why the King is interested in Sarah as well as explain a few things about the fae in general. I tried not to be to be boring while doing so. I want to again point out that only royal fae can do magic, which I probably won't be going into more detail about, though I haven't yet decided if the plot calls for me to explain why. Either way, it's a rule in this fic, which helps to explain Jareth's having magic for a different reason than in The Light Aboveground, though I've kept the fairy-viewing as a matter of convenience, since no one else has crystals like Jareth. I hope this chapter wasn't too bothersome. Things will become more interesting in chapter two._

_Also, I KNOW IT'S BEEN A WHILE SINCE I UPDATED ANYTHING, FORGIVE ME!!! In my defense, my grandmother almost died. That's rather distracting, to say the least, and emotionally draining. I will try to be update-y again now, since she is better, and I'm not frantic with worry._

_P.S. I don't think modelesque is a real word...but I'm sure I've heard it before. Means "resembling a model" by way of unusual beauty or presence, at least to my mind anyway. I just wanted to be be as lazy as possible in description while still giving you a sense of the minor characters who we will probably never see again... : )  
_

_To my reviewers:_

_Notwritten--thank you for coming to visit my new Sarah/Jareth story!_

_Caughtinblackseyes--fabulous, eh? I like hearing that, thanks!_

_Anna--I'm glad you think this is interesting. I know it's a common theme in fics, Sarah's lost dreams, but I hope mine will be turn out to be different enough you all like it anyway.  
_


	3. 2: Sarah's Decision

**Chapter Two**

.

.

.

Sarah opened her eyes readily, as though she'd already been awake when the voice caller her name, not in a deep and dreamless slumber. Confused, she turned her head slightly and saw a glow in the far corner of her darkened bedroom. Her previous experience with the supernatural had left her wary but not soured on magic, so she sat up quickly but did not scream.

"What are you?" she asked uncertainly, unsure if it could even talk. It was just a ball of light, flickering in the air at about the height of her waist, easily out-shining the tiny lamp on her bedside table.

The glow enlarged itself, shimmering in a revolving pattern, and became a tall, fair man with the darkest green eyes she'd ever seen and black hair tumbling down to his shoulders in the casually tousled style of a medieval knight, such as from any of her favorite movies. She doubted he was here to woo her as such.

She sat there hyperventilating on her bed, eying him with the tell-tale nervous fascination of any maiden that had been toyed with by a certain high-born Fae. But this was not one of the Goblin King's many guises, she was to learn.

"Hello, Sarah," he said evenly, a secretive smile on his lips. His clothing was dark, but too dark--she could make out no details, as though he wore shadows themselves draped around his well-built form. He was broader of shoulders and bigger of frame than the Goblin King, who was svelte and agile as a panther, all lean muscles. This being seemed to loom even more ominously in his bulk, frightening rather than seductive. All this ran through her subconscious and almost made her wish she faced an 'evil' she was familiar with.

"Jareth?' she asked nervously, hopefully, pulling up her knees, unconsciously scrunching into a protective ball.

He laughed, and it was an uncomfortably husky sound, the kind that made her aware of her thin nightgown. His eyes searched her form as though she was naked, and though he did not dismiss her, she got the very clear feeling he was not here to ravish her. Which only partially relieved her.

"No," he said simply. "I am his king."

She stared at him, curiosity as always supplementing her bravery. "Jareth doesn't have a king," she said with a little frown, her brows drawing together in confusion as to why he'd lie about such a thing. "He is a king," she clarified helpfully.

He smiled again. "Yes, he is. But I am High King. And you," his tone went pointed, as though he waved a finger at her, "played a game with him. You won that game."

She swallowed, lifting her chin a bit. "Yeah, so?" her voice wavered only a little.

She blinked and he was gone, and then jumped as his voice sounded next to her ear; he was sitting beside her, his casual ease more naturally elegant than her most practiced posture. "I want to know," he purred into her hair as she shivered, goosebumps rising, "how you won, little mortal. You are different. And I desire to know why." She jerked away at the word 'desire' and shifted around to face him, scooting back to the head of her mattress. Her face fell into shadow but it was no trouble for him to see her clearly.

"Tell me, little Sarah," he said conversationally, twitching his fingers at her in perhaps, accidentally, almost the same gesture Jareth used to use to twinkle his crystals about so beguilingly, tossing out a baited line. "Do you miss your dreaming?" Her eyes flickered up and down, but she found no clues in his expression, in his bearing. "Do you wonder why you have lost possession of your dreams?"

"It's not fair!" she burst out--Jareth had no cured her of her signature phrase. Her passionate indignation flushed her cheeks and she leaned forward, to add emphasis to her words. "He shouldn't have taken them!" Then she shrank back with belated fear shining in her eyes, biting her lower lip, awaiting some retaliatory remark in Jareth's defense.

He tilted his head first one way then the other in time with his words. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. Jareth was quite vague in his wording--I have not yet decided if that is, indeed, fair."

She shook her head. "What do you mean?"

His eyes turned serious above his mocking grin. He did not seem to be capable of true solemnity, but then, it was not his dreams at risk. "It is against our custom to violate our own rules in the games we play with others. If Jareth did not make clear if he took your dreams in exchange or merely their fulfillment...if your were provably misinformed...there is a chance you may have your dreaming back. Though this will never be as satisfying as having them come to life." His dark brows rose briefly in speculation at her, hanging on his every word. "Perhaps it will be enough to be able to sleep again?"

She blushed, fully aware once again of the shadows under her exhausted eyes, her mere humanness against his supernatural beauty. "And...what do I have to do to get my dreams back? Who decides?"

He rose. "Me." He reached out, offering his hand. She stared at it. "Come with me, Sarah."

"The last fairy-person who invited me to follow him almost got me killed." She raised her eyes to his. "What guarantee do I have you'll give them back?"

He shrugged lightly. "None at all. But this will be your only opportunity, Sarah. Make no mistake, my interest is not infinite. Capture what chance you have." Her lips parted unhappily, half-forming soundless words which he correctly interpreted the gist of. "You will come to no harm in my care. And you may return at any time to your world," he promised, which was more freedom than most humans were given. Fae were not above detaining a human indefinitely--many adolescent nobles with the privilege of world-walking but who were just coming into their own paid for the pleasure of using them before risking a jaunt outside their home-world. All that was required was that the visitor had to come willingly, even if 'willingly' was stretched to include 'drunkenly' or 'thought it was a joke'.

But Sarah was a special case. She'd escaped the fire once already--she was far more cautious now than before. She had to be lured in with many visible means of escape. The key was to slowly quench her desire to leave.

He waited with eyes half-closed and downcast, her decision a matter of little consequence to him save for a possible means to an end regarding Jareth. But the decision was everything to her, possibly even her life on the line. The corners of his lips turned up when she finally spoke.

.

.

.

_A/N: Sorry for the long delay. Life. It gets in the way. _

_Next chapter things will begin to pick up. Had to set the stage, but it will get more interesting soon, I promise! Chapters will also be longer.  
_

_Also, I am in no way trying to set up the High King as more sexy than Jareth--but he is different, and as a ruler of such powerful beings, he was to be imposing and dangerous and cunning and yes, attractive--anything less and he'd not be fit to rule. I hope you guys like him, or at least don't dislike him unduly, but don't worry; Sarah is not attracted to him. She's all about Jareth, who confuses and entrances her. The High King merely intimidates her._

_._

_To my reviewers:_

_LDeetz--thank you for both the review and the clarification, I appreciated it!_

_Notwritten--hello again! Keep reading, okay?__  
_

_MythStar Black Dragon--thank you for those nice words! I hope I do not disappoint you.  
_


	4. 3: A Mortal Presence

**Chapter Three**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Alaitha made no comment when he returned to their private chambers just as she was leaving, vivid and alluring in ruffled lavender reaching her ankles, as he said nothing to her. She merely pressed a soft kiss on his lips he she passed, acquiescently accepting his silence and trusting her king to fulfill his pan and tell her what he wanted her to know in time. She could not fail to be aware of the mortal presence in their hidden chambers, but she knew well that others did not sense it and she she would be wise to say nothing until he officially revealed the girl. Gossip may amuse, but death did not, and anything a king saw as disloyalty to his will could be labeled as treason.

He had secret Sarah away overnight in a chamber that could only be accessed through shimmering gossamer, a shield as delicate as a silken veil but also impenetrable and even invisible to all but the two of them. Alaitha was not fool enough to believe he did not have other private spaces even she could not find. But Sarah was not a horded possession, but a tool.

She slipped away quietly, pondering the situation only briefly before turning her mind to the organized chaos that was the Fae Court.

.

.

Sarah awoke to a view of dazzling beauty; the appearance of the finest, whitest sands found on exotic shores, sparkling as though in direct sunlight and only occasionally obscured by a corner or shadow.

And that was just the ceiling.

She sat up slowly to take it all in, seeing the live flower-touched vines winding around the posts of her bed, holding the white gauze of a canopy. To her left, a water-feature, a pond from which sprang an ivory statue of a maiden in a simple dress holding her hands down for water to appear centimeters from her cupped palms. The liquid materialized out of thin air as a gift to the crystalline fish.

The far wall simulated the twilight sky, an indefinable color made of many dusky shades, twinkling here and there with early stars, but featured no window, so own assumed this beautiful pillared room was set deeply inside the building.

But seeing all of this reminded her that if it was a lovely dream, it was not own of her own-she had none, and this was in fact the reason for her impulsive visit to another land, whether it was beautiful or not. Jareth had been beautiful, but he was also-

She shook her head. 'No. I won't think of him.'

'But I'm _living_ in Fae-land! What if he sees me?'

"Oh, yeah," she said aloud, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. Maybe he'd be too busy to notice her...what did he do all day long anyway? Maybe he hung around the High King's court. She rubbed her forehead. "Why don't I ever think things through?"

The man-Fae-King...person from the night before appeared between one blink and another to smile down at her, dressed today in dark green to match his eyes, still in the style of a medieval lord; tight pants and a well-made tunic embellished to fit his station.

"Why do you dress like someone out of the Renaissance?" she asked without thinking.

His smile remained, not offended, almost curious. Her awareness of each tangle in her hair and rumple in her clothing rose, but she had no idea of how enticing she was; retaining a look of barely-touched innocence, awakening to her own potential. Very desirable, very much Jareth's type with the frustrating, intriguing mettle in her eyes that itself appealed to the High King. She stared straight up into his face, and he curled his fingers slightly in an effort to resist touching her.

"It is very much the fashion to dress as so many plays, images and storybooks portray us to," he graced her with. "I'm afraid the females among us have discovered the same thing your fine ladies did; the style of dress hampers them."

Her brows flattened out at him in displeasure as he smugly punctured her beloved fantasies. He laughed.

"Ah, Sarah. You are amusing. But entertainment is not the reason I brought you here." He paused, tilting his head and lifting one shoulder briefly as if to say, 'Well, not solely.' "You will come with me."

"Are you...going to introduce me to your people?" she asked nervously, then didn't let him answer. "What do you call this place?"

His lips curved in a fleeting mystified smile. "My citadel. Did you expect some fanciful name? A palace is a palace."

She shook her head. "No, I mean your, your land." She waved a hand helplessly in the air, searching for explanation, sliding her legs over the edge of the bed. "Some people call it names like Faerie or Other." Her expression went distant as her cheeks brightened; her one remaining weakness from her fairytale-dominated childhood was her addiction to risque literature starring dashing supernatural beings from such-named places. Her most dog-eared book featured a silvery-blonde-haired lord of the "children of the moon". Could the High King read her emotions, like those characters?

Well, yes, but only because her poker-face was no match for his experienced reading, truth be told. Her host gazed at her, bemused, as though she were a three year old with the most outlandish idea. "We call it home." He beckoned her follow him, saying nothing about the ridiculousness of humans.

He took her to Alaitha, back from her soiree, and the Queen dressed her expertly in dazzling mint-green material, smooth on the inside but thick as the heavy cotton construction workers wore. "It will help protect you from incidental magic," she said curtly. Seeing the mortal's look she unbent enough to explain further, "Many Fae wear minor spells to draw lovers, or followers, or just to bedazzle. This material will counter the effects." She laced Sarah tightly into it, deliberately hurting her a bit, and smiled as the girl winced.

The walls of the dressing room were the only witness to the transformation from ordinary to extraordinary. Naturally, Sarah was dressed with the simpler lines of a second-class noblewoman, but she remained beautiful in her new dress with its semi-modest cut. The waist was tight and the skirt full, but her sleeves bared her shoulders and a bit of her bosom, which while not as impressive as that of the artificially enhanced glamoray (the lovelies carefully crafted into their beauty and curves with a dangerously draining spell), still served its purpose well enough. Her hair was left down to emphasize her youth and innocence.

"That will do," Alaitha said as she tugged the lacing of Sarah's white heeled boots. Ladies did not show their ankles, a practice some nobles took delight in pretending to before they 'succumbed' to their lovers. "My husband will announce your presence tonight at the Gathering. It is not an official event, but many important Fae will be there."

"What-ow," Sarah gasped as Alaitha raked her fingers through the girl's hair to make sure it was tangle-free but found it was not. The Queen grabbed a comb from her vanity table, and Sarah's downcast eyes missed the way her hair began to glimmer more with each stroke. "What will he tell them?"

Alaitha smiled a bit, but it was a smugly unpleasant smile, a scheming look-Sarah quickly lowered her eyes again. "He will tell them that you are the mortal that ran Jareth's maze and won, and are being celebrated. They will not care what the reason is, and they already know our illustrious Goblin King was defeated by a human girl. They will be beside themselves to see you."

Sarah, who had been paling since the mention of that particular king, swallowed. "There's no way he'll be happy about that." She dared raise her eyes to the reflection of the Queen's cool gaze.

Alaitha quirked one fine brow up. "It does not matter; a Guest of the High King cannot be harmed in any way." She did not clarify that such a being was treated as his possession. "Practice walking in this without losing your breath or balance. We will dine before the Gathering." She left Sarah alone and joined her king in his study as he regarded some parchments before him on a polished ebony desk.

"She believes me cruel," she said lightly, placing one smooth palm against the cool surface. "In different, at best."

"Good," he murmured back, jotting down a note beside the formal swirls of the Fae written language. "She does not trust me either, but that is because I am male. I do not want her forming attachments to anyone except for Jareth. I do believe her imploring eyes and fitful manner will draw him irresistibly despite himself. But she will fear me more than him, for I alone will have the power to return her home."

"The Goblin King would not bring her back even if he could world-walk at will," Alaitha pointed out, leaning slightly forward. Her husband scooted the map-like documents aside pointedly. "If he succeeds in getting her alone he may not return her to us either. Not without proof of his possession."

He rose from his chair, waving a hand over the parchments to vanish them and studied her with a thoughtful tilt to his head. "You are right, of course. How can we fan his desire without freeing Sarah from our grasp?"

"You mock me with flattery," she accused, crossing the gap to wrap her arms around his neck. She exerted enough pressure to bring his head down and whisper in his ear in between tiny kisses. "She will remain in our estate when not accompanied by us-he cannot remove her by magic or force. And he will come for her in time, and weaken," she murmured as he ran his hand over her. "And all the while knowing he is falling victim to our will." It was hard to tell if this thought or his actions elicited the shiver. She pushed him away suddenly, hands against his chest to hold him at bay.

"Place the hold-bracelet on her and you know full well that she cannot leave. She will accept it willing for her own protection." Her eyes narrowed at his patronizing, annoyance winning out over lust.

'She does like to test her place,' he thought, reaching for her again. His hand jerked out like a viper, fingers biting into her bare arm. Yanking her against him he claimed her mouth possessively, pushing her backwards towards the lounging chair. "She will do as I say," he acknowledged with a growl into her hair as he turned her face to kiss her neck. 'And so will you,' went unspoken but seemed to delight her-if the way she pulled him down on top of her on the couch was any indication.

.

.

He threw the crystal and turned away, not watching to see it disappear before hitting the far wall. Stalking to his high-backed chair he threw himself in it like the spoiled lord-of-old he looked like. The words imprisoned in the sphere, taken in through a fairy's eyes, echoed in his mind.

"The court is alive with whispers that Jareth's conqueror is returned, and to be revealed by the High King at Gathering." Seylayt stared coldly up into the fluttering creature's eyes-a renegade that belonged to Jareth alone. Her terse words were no reflection on their business relationship; she was reserved with everyone. "He makes no secret of this, Goblin King," she warned. "Do not make a spectacle of yourself."

Sarah. He had not seen her face since she had rejected-since she had defeated...

HIs lips thinned in a sour expression. However he looked at it, he did not like to recall the moment.  
He was free to observe her now that he knew of her existence, but saw no reason to; she was equally free from a life involving him in any way. Sarah was no melodramatic-not matter how tormented by curiosity , she'd never dare call on him again, relishing the chance to pine away and complain as was her style.

He stopped shifting another crystal around one-handed. Was. Perhaps not anymore. He snorted. No, if she did not contain at least a hint of that shiny-eyed little girl still she would not be here.

But what did she want? And what could Eyfran be bandying her about for? Simply to enrage him? The High King did nothing without a purpose.

He dismissed the crystal and got up, index finger curled at his lips thoughtfully. Striding out of the chamber he passed his throne room full of rowdy goblins in favor of his private receiving room where a small tribe of fairies tended their much-loved peanut garden from behind thick glass walls reaching almost to the ceiling (more for their protection from the goblins than any real intent to keep them in). They spied for him happily in exchange for the varieties of nut he brought them. Such things were not native to his homeland and had to be carefully cultivated, a rare delicacy if he wanted to sell them. He did not understand the fascination for this accidental discovery of his, but he was reaping the benefits of it.

He beckoned one and it conferred with its sister (the breeding males attended the Queen in the leafy abode above). Flying to him, it rested on his palm and he spoke softly so as not to deafen it. "Seek out the mortal Sarah in the High King's citadel-do not be seen. Go." And it went.

.

.

_A/N: Be easy on me for typos. My computer was wiped b/c of viruses and then died in January. We could not afford to fix it until recently and have no Microsoft Word now. I"ll have you guys know that BECAUSE I LOVE YOU and felt really, really bad I worked on eight chapters of this at work, when I was supposed to be, well, working. I also wrote another Sarah/Jareth story that I have to type up on notepad for you all, and as well as chapters for stories you may or may not read of mine._

_To My Reviewers:_

_MythStar Black Dragon-Thank you! I hope you're still reading this..._

_Notwritten-you're welcome. Please keep sharing your comments._

_Fae Keladrey-I'm glad you like it, it's so hard to be unique in this fic section. I'll try and watch my phrasing a bit more._

_Turtlerad17-Yeah, I didn't want the HK to be someone who's merely so evil he drives Sarah into Jareth's arms, I wanted him to have his own personality. Glad you like him._

_Team Guy of Gisborne-Thank you! Please keep coming back for more._

_Saoirse Driscoll-I hope you like where it's gone so far._


End file.
